Paul and Arthur
[Have you ever noticed how the writers,
The critics and biographers, insist
On using surnames for them? The blighters
Call them “Verlaine” and “Rimbaud.” Manly mist
Beclouds the truth when academics choose
Those family names instead of saying “Paul”
And “Arthur”—meaning that their fathers’ screws
Are somehow still important. Prissy gall
Controls these scholars. Lovers are what these
Subversives were, not daddies’ boys. Their balls
Slapped hauntingly beneath each other’s knees,
Raised high, accompanied by stabbing calls
As loud as poetry could ever be.
They made this autre masculinity.]